A Day Like This
by horcrux happy
Summary: Because they really did act like a married couple. Merlin. It was almost uncanny. Ron and Hermione, set during HBP. Written by horcrux happy and ibelieveintruelove, INCOMPLETE. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story was written by me, horcrux happy, and my friend Paddy, ibelieveintruelove. It's still in progress, but don't worry, we won't take forever! This is a Ron/Hermione story, mainly canon-compliant, that is supposed to be a more detailed look on their relationship during Half-Blood Prince. Please read and review!

Herbology. Hermione sighed. It's not that she disliked it, but she would much rather be decoding runes or drawing star charts for Professor Sinistra. Neville was probably the only one who was really interested in the class. It was never the most fascinating subject, but it wasn't boring, either. Especially today's lesson.

The sixth years were harvesting Snargaluff pods, and it wasn't an easy task. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not making a good enough attempt to get one out of the dead-looking stump in front of them, as they were discussing Professor Slughorn's latest party, and this earned them a scolding from Professor Sprout, who walked briskly towards them and gave them a stern look. "_Quite_ enough chat over here! You're lagging behind, everybody else has started, and Neville's already got his first pod!" Hermione looked at Neville, not wholly surprised that he was clutching an unpleasantly pulsating green object about the size of a grapefruit while sustaining scratches along his face and a bloody lip. Startled that the three of them had not even started, she turned to Ron and Harry, waiting for them to help her.

"Should've used Muffliato, Harry." Ron murmured. Hermione gave the two boys a cross look.

"No, we shouldn't!" She immediately exclaimed, almost angrily. "Well, come on… we'd better get going…"

The three of them dived at the gnarled stump between them. _For a lump of wood, it sure knows how to put up a fight_. Hermione thought briefly as one of the thorny vines caught in her hair and Ron beat it back with a pair of secateurs; Harry trapped several vines and knotted them together, causing a hole to open up in the middle of the branches. Hermione sank her arm into the hole, and it attempted to swallow her arm, closing in and causing her arm to go slightly numb. Harry and Ron forced the hole open again, wrenching at the vines and she withdrew her hand from the plant, clutching a pod identical to Neville's. Panting, she dropped it in the bowl that Harry held out to her, her face twisted in disgust; Harry passed the bowl to Ron, who started a valiant attempt to burst the pod.

"Anyway, Slughorn's going to have a Christmas party, Harry, and there's no way you'll be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come." She continued, acting as though a lump of dead wood had not just attacked the three of them. Ron, who was squashing the pod with all his strength, suddenly looked furious.

"And this is another party just for Slughorn's favorites, is it?" He sputtered angrily.

"Just for the Slug Club, yes," Hermione replied coolly, acting as though he was not being jealous. Why did he insist on saying he doesn't care about these parties and then he turns around and gets jealous about it?

The pod slipped out of Ron's fingers and hit the glass of the greenhouse, bouncing off and hitting Professor Sprout in the head, and while Harry went to retrieve it, Ron turned to Hermione with an uncharacteristically ugly sneer on his face. "_Slug Club?_ Blimey, it's even more stupid than I thought!"

"Look, _I_ didn't make up the name 'Slug Club'—" she started, just as Harry returned, clutching the pod.

"'_Slug Club,'_" Ron repeated, the sneer still pasted on his face. "It's pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don't you try hooking up with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug—"

Hermione blinked furiously, almost bursting into tears. Why did Ron always have to lose his temper at such inopportune moments?

"We're allowed to bring guests," Hermione was now a bright, boiling scarlet, infuriated beyond belief, "and I was _going_ to ask you to come, but if you think it's that stupid then I won't bother!"

Ron shut up immediately. "You were going to ask me?" he asked, in a completely different tone of voice. Hermione was oblivious, trying not to blow up, her temper almost past its threshold.

"Yes, but obviously if you'd rather I _hooked up with McLaggen_…"

"No, I wouldn't," Ron responded, in a very quiet voice.

The shattering of glass brought Hermione back to her senses. Had Harry been listening to that whole conversation? She flipped through her book with more gusto than intended, and while Ron and Harry retrieved another pod, Hermione burst the first one, filling the bowl with tubers wriggling like pale green worms.

_Did Ron mean he would rather go with me than have Cormac go with me?_


	2. Chapter 2

Ron inwardly groaned to himself as he shoveled his dinner into his mouth. He had so much homework to do tonight. An essay from Snape, Charms practice from Flitwick, and who knows what else from McGonagall. He really needed to start it all, as much as he hated doing it. The only problem was that he was sure there was somebody else in Gryffindor who didn't want to do their homework tonight, and that somebody else was going to be expecting him to join her in not doing homework.

Lavender.

Lavender Brown. His girlfriend, and the only girl he knew who was named after a color. Who names their kid after a color when they've already stuck them with a horrible last name? Ron smiled as Hermione's voice came into his head, lecturing on the absurdity of it all.

_It's really a most impractical name. I mean, honestly, I was named after my grandmother, not some silly flower that looks nice…_

Actually, Ron didn't know if Hermione really had been named after her grandmother or not. He just knew that Hermione would have some sort of reason against people naming their children after colors and flowers. Just like she had a reason for doing homework and following the rules and protesting for elf rights… and a reason for not speaking to him. She had a reason for everything, and it annoyed him to no end.

"Won-Won!"

Ron turned towards the source of the high pitched squeal and found Lavender running towards him. Next thing he knew, he was once again apart of yet another vertical wrestling match.

Ron heard a quiet "humph" from across the table and pulled himself away from Lavender to see Hermione storming out of the Great Hall. Ron shook his head sadly and returned to his food. He didn't understand why Hermione was making such a fuss over this. It's not like when she had asked him to Slughorn's party ages ago that he was supposed have, _kept_ himself for her or something. He hadn't done anything wrong.

But why did he feel so guilty?

"Won-Won, I'm going to go up to the common room, meet me up there?" Lavender smiled at him and batted her eyelashes in what was supposed to be an attractive manner, but only reminded Ron of someone who was very tired and confused.

"I don't know Lavender, I have a lot of work to do tonight," Ron said.

Lavender's coy little grin instantly morphed in a pout. "But _Won-Won_! That's what you said last weekend after the Apparition lesson! I miss you," she moaned.

"Alright, alright, I'll be up in a minute," Ron sighed.

Lavender smiled and leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"See you in a bit," she sang flirtatiously, and then she hurried off.

Ron groaned and rested his chin on his fist. He was never going to get any work done with Lavender around. At least with Hermione he finished his homework, no matter how much she annoyed him.

"_There you go thinking about Hermione again,"_ Ron scolded himself. _"You've got to cut that out, you've got a girlfriend now! If Hermione wants to not speak to you ever again then that's just fine! You could care less!"_

With that final thought, Ron got up and made his way up towards the common room. The only problem with that final thought was that it didn't make him feel any better, because he knew that it wasn't true. He _did_ care, a whole lot more than he liked to admit.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was furious. Why? A certain redhead who was, again, showing that he had the emotional range of a teaspoon.

She found herself in the library once more. She seemed to be there even more often than she was normally, and she found it quite irritating. It wasn't like her to be cheery one moment and then fuming the next because of another person. But, of course, it was Ronald Weasley she was referring to, and he made her upset quite a lot these days. Sitting down with a large sigh, she heaved her bulging bookbag onto the table and drew out her Ancient Runes translation. It was the last piece of homework she had left, but it was also the most difficult. They had progressed to obscure translations in Elder Futhark runes; fehu, naudiz, laguz… It was all so strange but it was something Hermione enjoyed greatly. But even though she was trying her hardest to focus on the spiky lettering, her mind kept drifting to a different subject.

_Ron._ Why was he being so infuriating lately? The real question was _why_ was he infuriating her; he really hadn't been doing anything out of the ordinary. After all, he was a teenage boy. But it wasn't really the whole Lavender issue that was bugging her. Or was it? No, it couldn't be. It was just Ron's blatant display of public affection that angered her. _Who honestly wants to see that? People eating each others' faces. Disgusting!_ She snorted, bending over the textbook and decoding several runes. It might have also been Lavender that was annoying her greatly; she wouldn't shut up! In the dormitory, it was always her and Parvati squealing over the latest issue of Witch Weekly, giggling horrendously and driving Hermione near mad. And then hearing Lavender speak of Ron in that strange manner… It was beyond irksome. Flying through the text and her translation sheet, she scribbled down the last few lines of her translation and then slammed her textbook shut.

She stood up, frustrated, to get a book from a nearby shelf to busy herself until supper. _The Nature of Winged Horses._ No, sounds like something Hagrid would love to read. _Potions Galore!_ Hermione had lost her taste for liking Potions after Harry continued to use that dratted book, so she passed that shelf. _Hogwarts: A History._ She sighed. She had probably already read the majority of these books, so she took the book back to her table and began to read the already very familiar text, pushing her reading glasses farther up on the bridge of her nose. _Hogwarts started long ago, founded by the four greatest wizards of the age. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin…_ Suddenly there was a giggle. _Oh, bugger._ She looked up at the entrance to the library to see Ron standing there bug-eyed with a smiling Lavender hanging on his arm. _Sickening, really_.

"What are you doing here?" Ron blurted suddenly, gazing between Hermione and her bookbag. She rolled her eyes, setting her face in a fierce, hard glare.

"What does it look like I'm doing here? Studying and doing homework, like any other person does in the library. And I'm always here. You said it yourself loads of times." Hermione replied, glaring over her glasses. If it was anyone but Ron, that type of glare would make someone completely silent and send anyone scampering, but this was Ron Weasley. He just didn't get it, did he?

"Well, you should stop studying. You're always up here doing homework. You should take a break and go enjoy the fresh air." He started to say, and it infuriated her further.

"I don't want to go outside. The whole reason why I'm here is because you're a sodding prat! Do you not know how to control your hormones? Please!" She said, and with each word, her voice crescendo-ed into a loud, frustrated noise from the back of her throat, and she was almost ready to screech in his ear. Why was she so testy lately? _Oh, don't bother with that now, he's just being a git._

"I—I—What?" He said, gaping at her. But with the speed of lightning, he caught onto her tone. "Control my hormones? Just because I have a girlfriend doesn't mean I can't control my hormones! And what about you? Been snogging _Vicky_ at all? You're one to talk!" He shouted, huffing. Hermione was about to respond, but Madam Pince approached them with a hawk-like glint in her eye.

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?! THIS IS A LIBRARY! GET OUT! _OUT!_" She roared, sending Hermione's bag flying into her, which nearly knocked the wind out of the bushy-haired girl. Running for the exit, she threw one last sharp glare at Ron, who was stumbling out the exit as well, Lavender still clutching his arm, her blonde hair streaming behind the couple.Seeing that he was visibly hurt, she was satisfied and turned back around, but not before she felt that her face was wet with tears.


	4. Chapter 4

"Golpalott's Third Law states that the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components…. What?"

Ron groaned and let his head fall on his desk in frustration. He would never understand this, not in a million years. He needed Hermione to help explain this to him… but that was never going to happen either. She had barely spoken to him since he and Lavender had started going out, something he was really starting to regret. Lavender was a bit too… _clingy_ for Ron's tastes. Then again, he didn't really know what his tastes were.

"Well, definitely a Gryffindor," Ron thought, procrastinating his potions homework. "A Gryffindor and probably from our year or older….She should be pretty, but not too clingy either… Smart. She should be fairly clever too…. Maybe next time I choose a bird to date I'll pick someone who understands potions and can help me…"

As Ron lay there with his head in his book, he formed a picture of this perfect girlfriend in his mind. Smart… Pretty… Gryffindor… his age… all of a sudden a picture of Hermione came to mind, and Ron immediately sat up and blinked, hard.

Hermione?

She was the girl that came to mind when he thought of the perfect girlfriend? How could that be? She was bossy and brainy with bushy-hair and beside that, she hadn't spoken to him in weeks! Yet, despite all of her downfalls, Ron couldn't help but think that any man who had Hermione's affections was probably the luckiest man in the world.

Oh Merlin, he fancied Hermione.

Well it's not as if he didn't know that he fancied Hermione, he had known for sure ever since the Yule Ball. He just had never actually admitted it to himself before now.

"Won-Won!"

Ron groaned. Not now…

"Won-Won, I have a special surprise for planned for you tomorrow!" Lavender squealed, settling herself down on his lap. "Are you excited for your birthday?"

"Yeah, thrilled," Ron muttered, trying to work around Lavender. He really did not want to have any homework to do on his birthday, but it seemed that Lavender had other ideas.

"… So meet me in the common room tomorrow morning like I said, and then…Won-Won, are you even listening to me?" Lavender whined.

_No. I'm not._

"Yeah, er – listen Lavender," Ron said. "I really don't want to have any homework to do tomorrow, so do you think you could just – er – not bother me tonight so I can finish?"

"But, _Won-Won_-"

"I really need to get this done, Lavender," Ron insisted.

Instantly Lavender's eyes welled up with tears and Ron regretted ever speaking.

"Fine!" she cried. "If I'm such a bother to you, then I'll leave! It's almost as if some stupid homework assignment is more important to you than me!"

With that Lavender burst into tears and fled up to her dormitory. Parvati followed shortly, giving Ron a hateful glare on the way up.

"Bloody hell," Ron moaned. "I'm starting to sound like Hermione."

"And what, exactly, is so horrible about that?

Ron looked up towards the source of the bossy voice and found Hermione standing before him balancing a pile of books in her arms, looking livid. This night just kept getting worse every second.

"I mean, am I that repulsive that becoming more like me would be such a horrible incident?" she demanded.

"What? I – No! – I mean–" Ron stuttered, apparently at a loss for words.

"Or are you trying to turn all your problems with Lavender on to me now, as if it's my fault you had to go out with her in the first place!" Hermione yelled, her hair practically crackling with electricity and her eyes burning with hatred.

"That's not what I meant! If you would just _listen_ to me Hermione, I -"

"Oh, no, I've been listening to you for long enough, and it's gotten me nowhere. But, apparently all someone needs to do to get noticed around here is act like a complete tart, and then you perk up and start snogging the life out of them. Is that how it works?"

"What the hell are you on about? I notice you!"

"Yes, you notice me because I do well in class and you need help on your homework! That's all I ever was to you, isn't that right? I was just there for you to copy all my notes and homework and to teach you all the lessons that you don't listen to because you're always asleep!"

"That's not true! We were more than just-"

"More than just what, Ronald?" She shouted, her hair even bushier, clenching her teeth as if there was a particularly nasty insult she was holding back.

Ron stopped and glared at Hermione. He meant to say 'more than just study partners', but what had almost come out was 'more than just friends'. While he knew he was certainly harboring feelings for Hermione, he could tell by the look on her face that she was most definitely not harboring feelings for him, especially at the moment.

Right?

"You make things so difficult, Hermione," Ron grumbled.

"Oh, I make things difficult, do I? Well I'm glad that you're getting a little taste of your own medicine then, Ronald, because you are the most difficult and insufferable prat I've ever met!"

With that Hermione turned and stormed out of the common room, leaving a very confused and upset Ron in her wake.

"Why do these things always happen to me?" he moaned.

With a great sigh Ron started packing up his books and heading up to his dormitory. No use trying to finish it tonight, he couldn't possibly figure it all out now. As Ron got in bed and started drifting off, he hoped that at least tomorrow, his birthday, would be better than today.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione sat in utter silence, peering around at the surroundings of the grim hospital wing. When she had gotten wind of Ron's being poisoned, she had rushed up to the hospital wing without even thinking, abandoning her latest perusal of library books in the Gryffindor common room and waited worriedly by the doors to the infirmary. As soon as Madam Pomfrey let them in, Hermione had grabbed the nearest chair, ashen-faced, and sat down. The only thing she could think of was the last conversation she and Ron had; it hadn't ended pleasantly, with her yelling at him, and then later, during their first Apparition lesson, she had viciously taunted him. _Merlin, how could this have happened?_ The always rational Hermione; her first thoughts went to how poison could have made its way into Hogwarts, with Filch inspecting anything that entered the castle. But then her thoughts kept turning back to Ron.

He was not only one of her best friends, but could even be considered the bane of her existence. They were always bickering in some way or another; Harry had jokingly called them an old married couple several times. But why?

It hit her, and her eyes went wide. _Hopefully, no one noticed, and if they did, maybe it'll pass as a sign of shock._ Because they really did act like a married couple. Merlin. It was almost uncanny. While she sat there absorbed in her thoughts, Harry was retelling the story once again, about how a bezoar had saved Ron's life. It was times like these when Hermione was utterly fascinated by how little things like stones could save lives because of magic.

Why was she so worried about him? Rationally, she concluded she would do the same for any of her best mates. But Ron wasn't just a best mate.

Hermione reluctantly admitted to herself that she fancied Ron. It was not a secret; she knew Harry had caught on. She thought back to earlier years. When had she first started fancying him?

It had to be fifth year. She spent the better part of the first half of term soothing Ron's nerves over Quidditch matches, and she even kissed him on the cheek to calm him before the first match of the year. Maybe it was earlier than that. But Hermione settled on fifth year, realizing that she hadn't ever considered Ron as more than a friend.

Still deep in thought, she sat pale and rigid while Fred and George fell into Harry and Ginny's conversation. Hermione wasn't even focused; she heard bits and pieces of the conversation with only mild interest.

"So you think Slughorn's a Death Eater?" That must've been Ginny. She was the only other female in the room.

"Anything's possible." Only Fred could jump to conclusions like that.

"He could be under the Imperius Curse." George said.

"Or he could be innocent." Ginny was the voice of reason in the conversation, and at this point, Hermione returned to her thoughts, and suddenly speaking.

"Then the poisoner didn't know Slughorn very well. Anyone who knew Slughorn would have known there was a good chance he'd keep something that tasty for himself." Merlin, she sounded like she was the one who was poisoned. Her nose was all stuffed up and her voice was raspy from not speaking for so long. In a split second, Hermione saw that Ron was stirring ever so slightly.

"Er-my-nee." He croaked. It sounded remarkably like _Hermione_. She went silent.

_Oh, please, let him be okay…_


	6. Chapter 6

Nothing.

That was all there was to do in the Hospital Wing.

**Absolutely. Bloody. Nothing.**

Ron groaned and shifted in his Hospital Bed to try and get more comfortable. He could see that the sun was setting through the windows, and he heard the distant rumble of footsteps and voices that meant it was dinner time. His stomach gave a hungry growl, and Ron scowled at the thought of what his dinner would be compared to everyone else's. What he wouldn't give for a decent meal; with chicken and potatoes and gravy and steak-and-kidney pie and treacle tart… his mouth was watering at the thought.

As Ron stared out the window and fantasized about a real meal instead of the bowl of cold porridge he was bound to receive, he heard a door open and close, and the sound of another person's quiet breathing. He turned to the door to find Hermione standing there. She was carrying a large stack of books, and a bulging bag lay against her hip.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed.

"Hi Ron," she said, as she slowly maneuvered her way towards him. When she reached his bed, she set her stack of books on the floor and put her lumpy bag at the foot of the bed.

"How're you feeling?" she asked, pulling up a chair.

"Better," he said. "Wish I had some decent food though."

Hermione smiled and sat down next to him. It was a little weird, being on speaking terms with Hermione again, Ron thought. But it was a good weird, he decided, as Hermione reached over to open her bulky bag. A _very_ good weird.

"I brought some more work for you," she said, still rummaging about in her bag.

"Ugh," Ron groaned. He thought that doing bloody nothing all day would be better than doing schoolwork. "Do I have to do it now?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave him a little smile. "Yes, you have to do the work now," she said. "But – I can help you with it… If you want."

"Really? That'd be great!" he said. Maybe this whole homework thing won't be so bad after all, he thought.

For a moment he thought he saw Hermione's cheeks redden as she turned away to pull yet another bulky bag out of her already bulging school bag. Was she…_blushing?_

"I brought you some dinner," she said, pulling plates and cups out of her smaller bag.

"You brought me dinner?"

"Well, I figured you were sick of hospital food, and I know you don't like to work on an empty stomach…"

Ron watched as Hermione loaded their plates with all sorts of delicious foods; chicken, potatoes & gravy, steak-and-kidney pie, goblets of pumpkin juice… Ron looked up to meet Hermione's gaze with a huge grin on his face.

"Have I mentioned how amazing you are?" he asked.

There was no mistaking it this time, Hermione blushed a deep red and glanced down at her fidgeting fingers. Ron felt his own ears redden at the comment. Maybe that hadn't been the best thing to say to her… after everything that had happened… and he was still with Lavender… technically…

"Thanks," Hermione muttered.

Ron nodded, but felt like he needed to say more. He felt like a git after all he had done to her (though maybe not as big a git as Percy was). Feeling brave, Ron reached down and took one of Hermione's hands in his. She gasped and looked up at him, her brown eyes locking in a gaze with his.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, finding it hard to breathe properly when she was looking at him like that. "I'm sorry for… everything."

There was a small pause and then Hermione nodded her head, understanding just what it was that he was apologizing for.

"I know," she remarked.

They sat there like that for a little while longer, both finding comfort in each other. Suddenly, they both seemed to come to their senses and realize what was happening and they quickly pulled apart. Hermione started to fix the food and Ron nervously cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair.

_What the bloody hell was that all about? _

"Ahem, well, we should probably eat something then," Ron started.

"Yes, yes we probably should," Hermione agreed as she passed him his plate. Then she pulled out her Potions book and flipped to a new page.

"So, should we get started then?" she asked, all back to business.

"I suppose so," Ron sighed, wolfing down some more food.

Hermione rolled her eyes and hid a small smile as she began to read from the text book and explain the lesson to Ron. Ron smiled to himself as he watched Hermione read to him. Perhaps being cooped up in the Hospital Wing all day wasn't such a bad thing after all. At least, not if it meant that he would get to be alone with Hermione every night. This, he was certain, was worth every bloody boring hour he would have to spend in here. _Hermione_ was worth anything.


	7. Chapter 7

There was no reason to be smirking. But, of course, Hermione was, for the second time in three days.

Actually, there was plenty of reason to be smirking, but it didn't make sense. Why would she be so joyful that Lavender and Ron had fought yet again?

And, for the third time in two days, Hermione reasoned that it was all because of her fancy for Ron.

She looked up momentarily from her breakfast. Ron and Lavender were sitting next to each other, albeit they were not uttering a single word to each other. Immediately returning her attention to her eggs, she couldn't help but keep the smirk plastered on her face.

"Hermione… Is there a reason why you're smirking at your food?" Hermione looked up, slightly startled. Harry was looking at her with a rather concerned gaze, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as though he was bewildered. Sobering herself, she looked at him full-on, smiling.

"No, it's just… Well, Ron's out of the hospital, so you can get rid of Cormac from the Quiditch team, right? And maybe… If I'm seen around you two more, he might leave me alone…" She trailed off, grimacing. "In fact, there's Cormac now. Harry, make sure he doesn't see me, alright?"

-----

Throwing her bulging bookbag down, Hermione sighed wearily, glancing over at Harry. He was feebly attempting to write his Herbology paper, something that she had been refusing to help him with for the past week or so. Rolling her eyes and mentally berating herself, she went to sit across from Harry.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, if it's really that hard for you, I'll correct your Herbology paper. But you really should learn to do these things for yourself," she scolded lightly, taking the roll of parchment from Harry and drew her quill from her bag, immediately spotting a glaring error and correcting it.

"Hermione, you're a life saver." Harry smiled weakly, rubbing his eyes. "You are aware that I'm going to let Ron see this, right?"

Crossing out another sentence and adding two of her own, she responded without looking up. "I'd be suspicious if you didn't."

"Thanks a lot, Hermione." Harry replied, and he patted her on the back, checking his watch. "Listen, I've got to hurry or I'll be late for Dumbledore…"

Deciding not to respond, she continued crossing out a few feeble sentences in a weary manner. Harry left the common room, and Hermione continued to correct his essay, almost laughing at parts. She was so engrossed in editing and rewriting that she did not notice Ron trudging through the common room a while later, tossing his bookbag on the big worn couch in a careless way, and plopping down where Harry had sat perhaps a half hour ago. His head went straight to the table, making a loud _thunk_ on the table, startling Hermione and causing a large ink blot to form on Harry's paper. Hastily picking up her wand to remove the ink, she looked at Ron.

"Hermione. _Please_. Help me. I've been writing essays for so long my brain is going to bleed, and my hand is going to have the imprint of a quill forever." He rambled, the words not quite clear as his face was still smashed onto the table. Smirking inwardly, she pushed his head up with the hand not holding a quill.

"Ron, two hours is not a long time to be writing essays. Besides, if you had started them earlier…" She stated, laughing a bit. Returning to Harry's essay, she argued with herself for a few moments. Quickly deciding it was best to just try to correct his essays than watch him fail and blame it on her, she tapped the table with her free hand, not looking up from the parchment. "Oh, hand them over."

Ron sat there gaping for a few moments. Hermione cleared her throat, and Ron jumped, running to his bag and taking out the three scrolls of paper, throwing them down in front of Hermione. "Hermione, I owe you my life." He declared, giving her a huge hug and slumping into the seat next to her.

Hermione was extremely thankful for the fact that it was dark out and it was nighttime because if it weren't for the glow of the fire, Ron might have seen her blushing crimson. Sitting silently, Hermione finished Harry's essay and moved to grab one of Ron's rolls of parchment. Looking over at the ginger-haired boy sitting next to her, she realized he was asleep, or close to being so. Smiling slightly, she dipped her quill in the bottle of green ink in front of her.

"Er-my-knee."

Hermione nearly fell out of her chair. Looking over at Ron, he was smiling in his sleep. Why did he call for her? It was like him being in the hospital wing all over again…

"Yes?" She whispered, not expecting a response.

"Thank you. For everything." He murmured, burying his head further into his arms.

She sat there, wide-eyed for just a moment. Blinking rapidly, she realized the quill she was holding was dripping steadily onto Ron's Transfiguration essay, and she siphoned the ink off quickly, wondering why Ron would be talking in his sleep, about _her_…


End file.
